Reality in the Twilight Zone

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It seemed Neshe could stay at her breast forever sucking, but now Snama was hungry. She pulled her nipple from Neshe's mouth and slid down him to herself taste his nipples. To tease him as he had her.

She worked her way down his beautiful body, and when she reached his trousers, opened them and helped herself to the treasure within.

Neshe was incredibly hard. She grasped him tightly in her hand and stroked him, licking her lips and him too.

Snama's mouth had talents of it's own, and they were not lost on Neshe. He allowed his hips to thrust up between her willing lips.

With him in her mouth, her eyes closed, she chewed softly, sucked, licked and explored.

It was not her and Neshe. It was woman and man.

She was lost in paying attention to her hunger, trying to coax him into eruption . . . to fill her mouth with his coming.

Nothing mattered to either, they were in the moment, her time, and her space. Her mouth.

When Neshe came into her he had in his grip handfuls of her hair and pulled without thought as though he could pull her even deeper onto him.

His completion in her mouth left them both exhausted.

She remained, with her face in the soft, naked bed of his pubis, his spent, now softening cock still in her mouth, his hands absently playing in her hair.

They rested in this state, this glorious state, for a good long while.

When they had completely recovered, they arose from the sofa and stood in a warm embrace, kissing; satisfied lovers.

_________________

Now, with themselves pulled together again, dressed and back at Neshe's desk, they ate the rest of the meal Snama had brought and this time both sat with a glow in their eyes.

Gone was the conservative graciousness.

In its place was a graciousness of a complete difference: openly graceful sexual dalliance. The effect of their communion was savored by them both.

But, this was a business day, and a business lunch, and it was Snama who looked at her watch saying

"It's 2:00. I think your car will be outside. I must go and allow you back to work".

She kissed him goodbye and he kissed her back and they thanked each other for the lunch.

"Neshe.." she stroked his face again "I will see you at home."

Snama left and Neshe returned to his business day, neither really wanting to part from the other.

Bathed in Truth

Snama was on her knees.

She was naked and on her knees as Neshe slept. She was in prayer. To Him. For him.

This was not the religious prayer of a devout follower; this was the honest, from the heart prayer of someone close enough to heaven not to feel the need for formalities.

She spoke through her mind to the power that brought Neshe to her. First, she expressed sincere gratitude. This was her premiere emotion . . . how fortunate she; to have been blessed with Neshe in her life.

She asked for his health and well being, promising to care for him as heaven's gift. Again, she gave thanks for Neshe.

She marveled to her Spirit what a delight Neshe was. She was not afraid of explicit thoughts. To her they were pure.

As she knelt her sex was open and wet with preparation. Nothing felt more right.

Was it not pure to desire to lick love into Neshe from head to toe? To taste him in every way? To nourish him? To take him in? To ravage him? To kiss him?

Simply to kiss him.

"Thank You so. I don't know how I have come to deserve the treasure that is Neshe." ________________

In the morning, just as Neshe was beginning his shower, Snama slipped into the bathroom, disrobed and stepped in with him.

He smiled at her and drew her close.

She smiled too and they kissed cleanly under the warmth of the water.

Neshe had his soap, the aromatic scent that always lingered so perfectly on him. He began to lather her skin, beginning with her breasts.

Snama moaned softly and turned, stepping slightly out of the spray. She raised her hands high and apart on the wall of the shower, and stood with her feet back and wide open. Spread eagle and desiring.

She looked over her shoulder to Neshe and whispered . . .

"Wash me."

Neshe slid soap and hands sensuously over Snama; her breasts, her waist, her hips, along the curve of her back, over and between her buttocks.

He cooed to her over and over with words of passion.

Neshe bent and slid his hands up her legs, slippery soft with soap. As he ascended to the upper reaches of her inner thighs, his fingers sensed the slick, slightly sticky run of her sex.

He slid his hand in between her legs, but did not wash her. He probed her, slipped fingers into her, called to her . . .

"My kuss!" heatedly.

"Haan Neshe" she moaned "Yours". True and sincere.

He latched onto the back of her neck with his teeth and dragged his sex laden fingers out of her, up and back, in those places rarely touched . . . up the virtually virgin skin between the cheeks of her asse.

He penetrated her behind and she was completely welcoming, so stoked to thoughtless passion was she. She wiggled in slow rhythm, feeling his finger. Enjoying.

He entered another finger. She was fuller yet. Filled more with desire for him and filled more with him. More. More . . . she moaned, completely overwhelmed with pleasure.

She knew what he wanted.

Now, she wanted it too.

She looked over her shoulder once again, and in fierce passion, whispered to Neshe...

"Neshe . . .

Mayree bundd MAAR . . .

Please. Take me this way. FUCK me in my asse."

"AAAH" cried Neshe hearing words he had longed for.

"Mayree bundd. My asse!" his voice overcome with lust.

Again, Snama assented in a raspy whisper.

"Haan Neshe" she moaned " Yes. Yours. Tayree!". Honest and loving.

"Yours."

_____________

VERITAS

"Neshe look at my brands."

"They say Yours. Tayree!"

Neshe parted her's and filled his.

Snama was blessed.

_____________

MANDALA

A schematized representation of the cosmos, chiefly characterized by a concentric organization geometric shapes, each of which contains an image of a deity or an attribute of a deity.

A symbol representing the effort to reunify the self.

* * * * * * * * * * *

She ventured across the world to seek the reunification of her self.

In Neshe, she had found a place where she felt wholly together. Complete.

In the concentric circles of life that find people cross linked, adjoined, Snama had found her deity . . . the One that completed her Mandala.

Neshe.

* * * * * * * * * * *

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